


A Wedge in the Crack

by Siver



Series: Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick [37]
Category: Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective
Genre: Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, FFVI GT AU, Final Fantasy VI AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-10-29
Packaged: 2021-03-08 20:15:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 945
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27272524
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Siver/pseuds/Siver
Summary: He may be sick, but Alma knows better than to let her husband brood alone
Series: Final Fantasy VI/Ghost Trick [37]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1169099
Kudos: 6
Collections: Personal Fictober 2020





	A Wedge in the Crack

**Author's Note:**

> Fictober Day 29

Alma knocked softly at the door—a warning of entrance more than a request—and opened it. The stifled cough and the sight within proved her suspicions correct, not that this time had been a difficult one. Jowd was propped up in the bed, shoulders hunched, and to her eye, looking more miserable than he’d likely care to admit.

His voice held a rough edge and his eyes were dull. “You shouldn’t be here.”

Alma approached the bed and firmly placed a cup of water on the small end table built into the wall. “I think I should be. You don’t need to hide alone.”

“Oh?” Jowd’s mouth twisted in a sardonic smile. “Trash is meant to be tossed aside.”

“Jowd…” she started warningly then shook her head and perched on the side of the bed. “I see none.” 

“Go on.” He gave a low chuckle that devolved into a small coughing fit, cleared his throat with a head shake and finished dryly, “No need for us both to rot here.”

“I’m exactly where I—.” Alma trailed off as Memry’s tones sounded from somewhere nearby.

“No, no, no! Absolutely not and you keep those meddling hands away from my ship.”

“Eeeasy baby. Just an idea.”

Alma smiled to herself. She could easily imagine Cabanela’s placating hands before a casual flip brushing off whatever harebrained scheme he’d just tried to propose. Her smile faded as Jowd gave the door a blank stare. What did he see, she wondered. The sturdy wooden door in the Vanguard or a cell door deep below the earth? She rested a hand over his.

Jowd averted his gaze to the wall. Alma gave his a hand a small squeeze but kept her silence. For now, let the bustle outside this room speak for itself. Here was family and friends and love. A place of safety—as much as anywhere was in this world. Lynne’s voice sounded, calling for Missile, followed by a happy bark. Movement, a brief hum of voices. Rain pattered against the window.

Then a soft rhythmic knock sounded at the door followed by its opening. Cabanela leaned against the frame with a tray floating beside him. Jowd’s hand tensed under Alma’s.

“Brought you both some food baby.”

Alma rose to take the tray. Jowd certainly wouldn’t and she had a feeling it would be best if Cabanela didn’t enter entirely at this point. Cabanela flashed her a smile as she caught hold of the tray before his attention returned to Jowd.

“Do you need anythin’ else? Dinner and a shooow perhaps? Nothing like it.”

Jowd finally did look up at that. “Absolutely not.”

“Nooo?” Cabanela hummed a few bars and stepped neatly to the side as a snowball whipped past him. “As you wish,” and swept a low bow, deftly avoiding the second snowball that would’ve hit him squarely in the face only a moment before. It didn’t save him from standing up directly into the third and he froze like a startled bird as the snow broke over his hair.

Jowd snorted only to stop as well to blink owlishly at the small snowball that fell into his lap. Alma delicately lifted the plates from the tray and passed one to Jowd. “You’re not the only one with ice magic, dear. You should eat something. And so should you,” she shot at Cabanela. 

“Heeey, I know a victory when I see one, baby.” And he swirled out of the room shaking the snow from his hair as he went.

To Alma’s relief Jowd did make a start on the food. To her disappointment his amusement at Cabanela’s fate faded and his shoulders slumped once more.

“This can’t last,” he said. “You know that.”

“Like this?” Alma said. “Maybe not. Change will come; it has to, but we have to believe it will be good change.”

“Hope,” Jowd said dully.

“Yes.”

He stared at his plate and finished the meal in silence. But silence never lasted for long here and while it seemed Cabanela wasn’t to give them their personal ‘show’ he hadn’t been put off course entirely. Muffled, but his voice rang out from somewhere outside the room. Alma couldn’t make out the words exactly but the song sounded like a cheery one.

Then Missile’s unmistakeable bark sounded out followed by another and a small howl and Alma realized that this time his efforts to join in song wouldn’t be stymied. Certainly by the laughter ringing out no one wanted to stop the pup.

“Adorable,” she murmured.

Jowd sniffed and cleared his throat. The second time caused Alma to look quickly at him. His hands clenched and his eyes were fixed on the door once more, and there was a certain wetness there that could be illness, but…

“I’ll get these,” Alma said softly and fetched up the plates. She didn’t wait for a reply—doubted one would come just now—and slipped out of the room. She hesitated by the door waiting… and there was no mistaking the sniff and sharper intake of breath.

_Jowd… We_ can _have this and so can you._

She stepped to the rail overlooking the lower level and gazed down. Lynne, Kamila and at least two kittens occupied the sofa and there was Cabanela himself poised, one arm outstretched as he sung, and Missile sat back on his haunches, tail waving merrily as he barked and howled along.

Each day brought its own difficulties, but times like these: she could start to really believe again that they could be a family once more. And just maybe this was a crack that would allow Jowd to feel some of that belief too.


End file.
